Book IV: Kondwiramur

Thus Parzival parted from them, and courteous he now might bearHis knightly garb, and he knew them, the customs of knighthood fair.But alas! he full sore was troubled with many a bitter pain,And the world was too close, and too narrow the width of the spreading plain,And the greensward he thought was faded, and his harness had paled to white;So the heart the eye constraineth and dimmeth awhile the sight.

For since he had waxed less simple somewhat of his father's lore,The desire of the man for the maiden, in his wakening heart he bore;And he thought but of fair Liassé, that maiden so true and sweet,How never her love she proffered, yet with honour the guest would greet.And wherever his horse might turn it he took in his grief no heed,And if slowly it paced or swiftly he thought not to guide its speed.

Nor many a field well-fencèd nor wayside cross he found;Nor chariot-wheel nor horse-hoof had furrowed with tracks the ground;Untrodden the woodland pathway, nor wide was I ween the way,And he knew not the hills and the valleys--Full oft shall ye hear men say,'Who rideth astray, in his wandering the lost axe may often find.'They lay here unnumbered round him, if for axe ye have trees in mind.Yet tho' far was the road he journeyed yet he went in no wise astray,And thus from the land of Graharz he rode through the livelong day,Till he came to the kingdom of Brobarz thro' mountains wild and high--When the shadows of evening lengthened, and red flushed the western sky,Then he came to a mountain torrent, and the voice of the raging floodRang clear as its waves rushed foaming round the crags that amid them stood.So he rode adown by the waters till he came to the city fairWhich a king had bequeathed to his daughter; 'twas the city of Pelrapär,And I wot that tho' fair the maiden who bare of that land the crown,Great grief and small gladness had they who dwelt in that noble town!

Like an arrow that swiftly speedeth from the bow by a strong arm bent,The waters onward rushing on their downward pathway went;And a bridge hung high above them with woven work so fair,And the stream it flowed swift to the ocean--Well-guarded was Pelrapär,As children in swings delight them, and swing themselves to and fro,So swung the bridge, yet ropeless, youthful gladness it scarce might know!

And on either side were standing, with helmets for battle bound,Of knights e'en more than thirty, and they bade him to turn him round,And with lifted swords, tho' feeble, the strife would they gladly wait,They thought 'twas the King Klamidé whom they oft had seen of late,So royally rode the hero to the bridge o'er the field so wide--As thus to the youth they shouted, and with one voice his arms defied,Tho' he spurred his steed full sharply it shrank from the bridge in fright,But ne'er knew he a thought of terror--To the ground sprang the gallant knight.And he led his horse by the bridle where the bridge hung high in air,Too faint were a coward's courage so bitter a strife to dare!And well must he watch his footsteps for he feared lest his steed should fall--From the other side of the water the knights had ceased their call,And with shield and sword-blade gleaming within the town they passed,For they feared lest an army followed, and they closed their portals fast.

So Parzival crossed the river, and he rode o'er a grassy plainWhere many in search of knighthood must death for their guerdon gain;And he came to the palace portal, and stately the Burg and high,And there hung there a ring of iron, and he gripped it right manfully.But none to his call made answer, save only a maiden brightWho looked forth from out her window, and was 'ware of the gallant knight.Spake the maiden so fair and courteous, 'An thou comest, Sir Knight, as foe,Little need have we of thine hatred, for heavy enough our woe,A wrathful host doth threaten already by sea and land!'Then he quoth, 'Nay, gentle lady, at thy portals a man doth standWho will, if he can, do thee service! For thy service my hand is fain,And never reward save thy greeting as payment I think to gain.'Then the maiden she went in her wisdom to the queen and an entrance prayedFor the knight, and in sooth his coming it brought to their sorrow aid.

So Parzival came to the city; down the roadway on either handThe folk who would fain defend them in close groups he saw them stand,Soldiers on foot, and slingers, and they who the dart could throw,He saw as he came towards them, in many a goodly row.And many a squire so valiant, the bravest from out the land,Long, sharp, and strong were the lances they bare in each strong right hand.There too, so the story telleth, was many a merchant grave,And the javelin and axe were their weapons, so their lady commandment gave.

And their skins, they were loose for hunger--Then the Marshal of the queenMade his way thro' their ranks to the castle, and heavy his task I ween.And well was that castle guarded, with towers o'er the chambers high;And barbican, keep, and oriel in such numbers they met his eyeThat buildings so strong and so many in his lifetime he never saw,And on horse or afoot from all sides the knights to his welcome draw.'Twas a sorry host, for as ashes some were grey, some were pale as clay,(My lord the Count of Wertheim sure had starved on such scanty pay!)

Thro' want full sore they hungered, nor cheese, nor bread, nor meatHad they, and their teeth were idle since naught might they find to eat.And their palate knew naught of the flavour of the wine-cup, or red or white,And their doublet hung loosely on them, and wasted each limb of might,And their skin like wrinkled leather on each rib hung gaunt and grim,For hunger their flesh had wasted and driven from every limb.Thro' want must they sorely suffer, little grease in their fuel ran--(A hero to this had forced them, the proud King of Brandigan,Thus they paid for Klamidé's wooing)--The mead might they seldom spill,For small was their store, I think me, the vessel or cup to fill.In Trühending oft shall ye hearken the hiss of the frying cake,In such music, methinks, but seldom the folk might their pleasure take!

(And if for such want I'ld mock them, then in truth must I share their shame,For there where I oft dismount me, where men do me 'Master' name,At home in mine house, with trouble e'en the mice shall their portion steal,Nor oft for their food be joyful! Nor need they the bread conceal,Unhidden, I scarce may find it--Yea, oft doth it happen so,And I, Wolfram of Eschenbach, ofttimes such pleasure and ease may know.)

But enough of my lamentation, once more ye the tale shall hearHow the city was full of sorrow, and for gladness they paid full dear.How these heroes, so rich in courage, must in need and in scarceness live,For so did the manhood bid them, to their need shall ye pity give--For their life stood in pledge, might He free it in Whose Hand all power shall be!--Yet more of their grief would I tell ye that ye mourn for them bitterly,With shame their guest did they welcome, for they deemed him so rich and greatThat he craved not thro' need their shelter; he knew naught of their poor estate.

On the grass did they spread a carpet, where a linden was walled around,And trained to a welcome shadow--'Neath its boughs they his arms unbound,And the vassals they took his harness; but other than theirs his faceWhen he in the streamlet washed it, and cleansed it from red rust trace;Nay, the sunlight's rays were shamèd 'neath the glow of his beauty bright,And a worthy guest they thought him as they gazed on the gallant knight.Then a mantle rich they brought him e'en like to the robe he bare,And new was the smell of the sable wherewith it was garnished fair.

Then they spake, 'Wilt thou look upon her, the queen, our lady true?'And the knight made answer straightway, that thing would he gladly do.To the palace they came, and the stairway steep and high to the portal led,And the light of a fair face met him when his footsteps so far were sped.Of his eyes should she be the sweetness--There shone from that lady brightA radiant glow and dazzling, ere she welcomed the stranger knight.Now Kiot of Katelangen and Manfilot, Dukes the twain,Led hither their brother's daughter who as queen o'er this land did reign:(For the love of God their harness, shield, and sword, had they put awayThese princes true and stalwart, fair of face tho' their hair was grey.)Midway adown the staircase all courteous the maid they led,And she kissed the gallant hero, and the lips of the twain were red;And she gave him her hand, and she led him, Sir Parzival, to the hall,And they sat them adown together in the midst of the courtiers all.

And feeble and faint the maidens, and the knights who stood there around,And vassal alike and hostess, small joy in their life they found.Yet Kondwiramur, her beauty did high o'er all others stand,Were it Enid, or fair Jeschuté or Kunnewaaré of far Lalande,Whoe'er men had deemed the fairest when they women's beauty weighed,Their fame to the earth was smitten by the glance of this royal maid.Yea, even the twain Isoldé, tho' men praise them evermore,They must yield the crown of beauty to the lady Kondwiramur.(And her name in our tongue betokens her shapely form and fair)And well had they done, the mothers, who had borne such a goodly pairAs these twain who sat here together, naught did they who stood aroundBut gaze on the one and the other--Many friends had our hero found.

And the thoughts of the knight will I tell ye, 'There Liassé, Liassé here,--God will free me from care since I see here Liassé that maiden dearThe child of a gallant father!'--Yet her fairness was naught I wot,'Gainst her beauty who sat beside him, in whom God no wish forgot.(The maiden was queen of the country) Yea, e'en as by morning dewRefreshed, the rose from its calyx forth buddeth in beauty new,And is white and red together--And grief to her guest it wrought,To whose courtesy naught was lacking since Gurnemanz' side he sought,And his words had from folly freed him; and had bidden him questions spareSave only where they were needful--So he sat by that lady fair,And never a word his lips spake, tho' he sat close the maid beside--Yet to those who know more of woman such silence doth oft betide.

Then the queen to herself said softly, 'This man disdaineth me,He deemeth my fairness faded. Nay, perchance it yet may beThat in this thing he doeth wisely, his hostess in sooth am I,And he is my guest, the first speech should be mine assuredly!Gently he looks upon me tho' never a word we speak,And courteous hath been his bearing, 'twere well I the silence break;Too long have I yet delayed me since here side by side we sit.'To her guest did she turn, the maiden, and she spake as it seemed her fit:

'Sir Knight, it were well as hostess that the first words came from me,Since I wot well my kiss as hostess a greeting hath won from thee,And thou offeredst me thy service, so my maiden hath borne me word,Our guests scarce are wont to do so, tho' the tidings I fain had heard.Now tell me, my guest, I prithee, since the tale I am fain to know,From whence art thou come to my kingdom, and whither thou yet wouldst go?''Lady, at early morning I rode from my host away,A brave knight is he and faithful, yet he sorroweth sore to-day,And Prince Gurnemanz do men call him, in Graharz he holds command,From thence I to-day have ridden, thence came I unto this land!'

Then the noble maiden answered, 'Sir Knight, had another toldThis tale, methinks that scarcely for truth I the words might hold,That thou in one day hadst ridden a journey that scarce in twainMy swiftest squire could compass, tho' his charger he spurred amain!Thy host was my mother's brother; his daughter's youthful glow,It hath paled before the sorrow which she, e'en as I, must know.For many sad days and mournful, with sad eyes we've wept our fillI, and the maid Liassé--Wouldst thou show to thy host goodwill?Then thou shalt with us, man and woman, this night-tide our sorrow share,Thou shalt serve him thereby; and I'll tell thee the want we perforce must bear.'

Then out spake her uncle Kiot, 'Lady, I send to theeTwelve loaves of bread, and of shoulders and hams do I give thee three,And eight cheeses too are with them, and two casks of wine I trow,And my brother, he too shall aid thee, of such aid hast thou need enow!'And Manfilot spake, 'Yea, Lady, I send thee the self-same fare.'And the maiden she sat in gladness, and of thanks she no word would spare.Then leave they craved from their lady, and forth would the old men rideTo their hunting-house that was nigh there--But the cell where they would abide,Was in Alpine wilds so lonely, there unarmed did they dwell afar,And never a foeman vexed them with tumult or strife of war.

And the messenger sped full swiftly, and the fainting folk were fed,No Burger within the city but was lacking for other bread,And many were dead of hunger ere food for their need was found.Then the queen she bade them share it to the feeble folk around,With the cheese, the flesh, and the red wine, as Parzival counsel gave,Scarce a morsel was left, yet they shared it, the queen and her guest so brave.

And swiftly the store had vanished, tho' to many who yet might live,Nor were slain by cruel hunger this succour fresh life might give.Then they bade them a couch make ready for the guest, and 'twas soft his bed,(Had the Burgers been hawks for the hunting methinks they were not o'er-fedAs their scanty board bare witness) yea, the folk there, one and all,Bare the marks of bitter hunger, save the gallant Parzival.

Then leave he prayed of his hostess, he would lay him down to rest.Do ye think that for tapers straw-wisps must light so brave a guest?Nay, better were they I think me; he betook him, the hero fair,To a bed so rich and stately a king well might slumber there,Nor of poverty bare it token, and a carpet before it lay.Then he prayed the knights to go hence, nor longer there delay,And noble lads un-shod him, and straightway he fell asleep,Till the cry of heart-sorrow woke him, and tears that bright eyes should weep.

This chanced e'en as I will tell ye; no woman's law she brake,For pure was she aye, the maiden of whom this venture spake.Long stress of war constrained her, and the death of her champion true,So heavy her heart with sorrow that sleep from her eyelids flew,So she went, this royal lady, (but never such love to claimAs urgeth a gentle maiden to crave of a wife the name)But she sought help and friendly counsel, tho' clad in a warlike gear,A silken shift, (strife she wakeneth who doth thus to a man draw near.)And the maiden she wrapped around her a mantle of samite long,And she went as her steps were guided by sorrow and bitter wrong.

Her maidens and waiting women who lay there around her bedShe left them slumbering softly, and with noiseless footsteps spedTo a chamber, there, e'en as she bade them, Parzival all lonely lay,And around his couch the tapers burnt bright as the light of day.To his bed she turned her footsteps, and she knelt low his couch before,But no thought of love unlawful the heart of either bore.Of joy bereft was the maiden, his help she was fain to claim,If awhile they lay there together it brought unto neither shame.

So bitter the maiden's sorrow that there fell full many a tearOn Parzival, and her weeping thro' his slumbers the knight might hear,And waking, he looked upon her, and sorrow and joy he felt,And he rose up, the youthful hero, as the maiden before him knelt,And he spake to the queen, 'Say, Lady, wilt thou now make a mock of me?To God only, and never to mortal methinks shouldst thou bow the knee.But rise thou and sit beside me, or grant me I pray this grace,Lay thyself down where I was lying, I will seek me some other place!'But she spake, 'Thyself wilt thou honour, and show honour alike to me,And by never a touch wilt shame me, I will e'en lay me down by thee.'Then the knight he spake by his knighthood he would e'en do as he should say,So down on the bed beside him in peace the maiden lay.

Tho' well sped were the hours of the night-time no cock did they hear to crow,Empty and bare the perches, for the famine had left them so.Then the maiden, grieving sorely, prayed him courteous her plaint to hear,''Twill rob thee of sleep an I tell thee, and work to thee ill I fear.My foeman the King Klamidé, and Kingron his seneschal,My castles and lands have wasted, yea, all but this citadel.My father, King Tampentäre, by his death me, poor orphan, leftIn peril and need so deadly, of all hope am I well-nigh reft.Kinsmen and princes many, and vassals, both rich and poor,Yea, a mighty army served me, but they serve me now no more.One half, nay, far more I think me, in defence of my land are slain,Alas! whence shall I, poor maiden, or gladness or succour gain?In such sore strait do I find me, I am ready myself to killEre my maidenhood and this body I yield to Klamidé's will.His wife he is fain to make me, yet his was the hand that slewMy Knight Schenteflur, the hero, whose heart was both brave and true,And the flower was he of all manhood, falsehood he ne'er might know,Who was brother unto Liassé, and she too shall share my woe.'

But e'en as she named Liassé then sorrow awoke anewIn his heart who would fain do service, and his spirit, so high and true,Sank, as sinketh a hill to the valley, at the thought of that maiden dear;Yet he spake to the queen, 'Say, Lady, how best may I serve thee here?''Sir Knight an thou couldst but rid me of Kingron the seneschal;In knightly joust of my warriors full many before him fell.With the morning again he cometh, and he thinketh that free from harmHis lord soon shall lie, my husband, in the clasp of my circling arm.My Burg hast thou seen, and thou knowest how lofty its towers and high,Yet down to the moat below them will I fling myself joyfully,Ere of maidenhood King Klamidé shall rob me against my will,If no better may be, then by dying, his boasting I yet may still!'

Then he quoth, 'Lady, French or Breton, of what country soe'er he be,From Kingron my hand shall shield thee, with what power may be given to me.'The night was spent, with the dawning the queen she arose again,Lowly she bent before him, nor from thanks would her lips restrain.Then she passed from the chamber softly, and no man might be aware,Tho' wise were he else, of her errand, save only the knight so fair.

Nor Parzival longer slumbered, for the sun was swift to rise,And it pierced thro' the clouds of morning, and smote on his wakened eyes;And he heard the sweet bells chiming, as the folk church and minster sought,For Klamidé their joy had banished, and their land in sore peril brought.

Then up rose the young knight also; the chaplain was in his placeAnd he sang to God and his lady; and the guest saw the maiden's face,And he gazed till the Mass was ended, and the benediction o'er.Then he bade them to bring his harness, and soon was he armed once more,A good knight and strong they deemed him, in gallant armour fair.Then on came Klamidé's army with banners borne high in air.And Kingron, he came full swiftly, he sped far before the force,And, so hath the story told me, of Iserterre's land his horse.And there waited before the portal the son of King Gamuret,And the prayers and the hopes of the townsfolk on the youthful knight were set.

Nor with sword he ere this had striven--From afar did he aim his stroke,And so swift his joust, in the meeting the gear of both chargers broke,And their girths were burst asunder, and each steed to its knees was brought,And the heroes who yet bestrode them of their swords must they needs take thought;In their scabbards did they find them--And already did Kingron bearWounds in arm and breast, and I wot me that loss was his portion there.For this joust brought him loss of the glory that methinks had been his alwayTill he met with this knight, and their meeting, of his pride was the dying day.And valiant did men account him, six knights had he prostrate laidWho rode in one field against him, yet here was he well repaidBy Parzival's right hand valiant, and Kingron the seneschalThought strange was indeed his peril, for stones surely on him fellCast forth from a mighty engine--Other arms wrought his overthrow,For a sword clave clean thro' his helmet, and Parzival laid him low,And he knelt with one knee upon him, and he bade him forthwith to giveWhat he ne'er to a foe had given, his pledge, an he fain would live.But he thought not to be his captor who had vanquished him here in field,But he bade him ride hence to Graharz and his pledge to its lord to yield.

'Nay, Sir Knight, thou hadst better slay me, 'twas I who slew his son,'Twas my hand of life that robbed him, Schenteflur--Thou from God hast wonGreat honour, yea, men shall praise thee for the strength that thou here hast shown,Of a sooth art thou here the victor, and Good Fortune shall be thine own.'Quoth Parzival, 'Yet another is the choice I will give to thee,Yield thou to the queen whom thy master in his wrath wronged so grievously!''Nay! Then were I lost of a surety, for I wot with their sword-blades keenMy body they'ld hew in pieces, small as dust in the sun is seen!Such sorrow of heart, I think me, and grief thro' my hand they win,Full many a gallant hero who dwelleth those walls within.'

'Then hence from this plain shalt thou journey to the kingdom of Brittany,And bear to a gentle maiden thy pledge and thy fealty.For she for my sake hath suffered a sorrow she ne'er had borne,Had not Kay been of knightly customs, and of courtesy fair forsworn.Say to her how with me it fareth, that I come not in joy againTill my spear, thro' his shield sharp-piercing, hath wiped out her honour's stain.To King Arthur and to his lady, and the knights of the Table RoundBear my greeting, and say in their presence shall I never again be foundTill the day I from shame have freed me; from the shame which I too must shareWith the maiden who smiled upon me, and great grief for that greeting bare.Say to her I am aye her servant, to serve her with service fain!'So Kingron must swear unto him ere they parted, those heroes twain.

Thus he came afoot to the city, for thither had fled his steed,The Burgers' help in battle, from their anguish the folk he freed.But the outer host was troubled that Kingron, their chosen knight,In this wise had been dishonoured, and broken his dauntless might.Then they led Parzival in triumph to their queen so fair and young,And the maiden was fain to greet him, and her white arms around him clung,And in close embrace she held him as she spake, 'The wide earth doth holdNo man I will have for my husband save him whom these arms enfold!'And as here they disarmed the hero her part would the maiden bearWith ready hand and skilful, nor her service she thought to spare.

But tho' heavy had been his labour, yet scanty, I ween, the board.And the Burgers they came before him, and they sware him with one accordThey would have him for lord and master; and the queen in her turn she spake,And she said that this knight so valiant for her love and her lord she'ld takeWho had won him a fame so mighty o'er Kingron the seneschal--But now from the castle bulwarks two sails might be seen by all,A strong wind to the haven brought them, and their lading must needs make gladThe folk, they bare naught but victuals,--God's guidance they surely had!

Then they rushed adown from the ramparts, and swift to the ships they fled,The hungry crowd, for the booty, as leaves by the wind are sped.With flesh they were not o'erweighted, so wasted and thin were they,Nor they strutted with well-filled belly, but bending they went their way.The queen's marshal he sware the shipmen, by the doom of the hempen cord,Safe conduct for life and lading, none should touch that which lay aboard.Then he bade them to lead these merchants straightway into the town,And Parzival for their lading the double he paid them down,And gladly the merchants took it, for princely they deemed such pay;And the Burgers these welcome viands to their fires did they bear straightway.

Now fain would I there take service, no man of them all drank beer,Wine and food had they there in plenty--Then he did as you now shall hear,Parzival, the gallant hero, for first in portions small,With his own right hand he shared out the viands among them all,Yea, even unto the nobles; so long had they lacked for bread,He feared it had wrought them evil if perchance they were over-fed.But to each one he gave his portion, and his counsel they deemed it right,And more should they win ere nightfall from the hand of this gallant knight.

To their marriage couch they bade them, 'twas the will both of king and queen--Yet throughout the night so courteous he bare him, in truth I ween,He little had pleased those ladies who now, in these latter days,In passion's heat forget all that should win for a woman praise;Tho' modest they seem to strangers, yet their heart gives their mien the lie,And their tenderness worketh sorrow to their friend, tho' in secrecy.But the steadfast knight and faithful guards himself at every hour,And well knoweth to spare a woman an she chanceth within his power.For he thinketh, and thinketh truly, 'For many a lonely yearFor her favours I served this lady; now, behold, the day is hereWhen her will is to reward me, and here we twain do lie--Had I touched with bare hand her vesture I were blest to eternity!An I vantage take of her slumbers to myself untrue I seem,Methinks we were both dishonoured did I waken her from her dream,For a woman's sleep is holy, and all men shall own its sway.'Thus the Waleis, who ne'er had feared him, lay still till the dawn of day.

Thus he whom men called the Red Knight, a maiden he left the queen,Yet surely she deemed in the morning his wife she o'er night had been,And for love of her lord her tresses she bound with the morning lightAs matrons are wont to bind them. And he won him, the gallant knight,Castles and lands around them from the hand of his maiden bride,But her heart was ere this his guerdon, and in peace did the twain abide.

Thus glad in their love they held them two days till the third night fell,And often he thought might he take her to himself it would please him well.Then he thought of his mother's counsel, and how Gurnemanz spake of yore,That man and wife should as one be, and the doubt vexed his soul no more,And his wife did he take unto him--Love's custom ever old,Yet ever new to lovers, to these twain brought joy untold.

'Twas well, not evil, with them--Now hear how the king, their foe,As he rode in his might to battle, must tidings of evil know.'Twas a squire who fain had told them, all crimson his spurs with blood;'Before Pelrapär on the meadow have they foughten those heroes good,'Twas a bitter strife and knightly; thy seneschal fell that day,Kingron, who led thine army, to King Arthur must take his way.As he in departing bade them lies the army upon the plain.Pelrapär shalt thou find well guarded 'gainst thyself and thine armies twain,There within is a gallant hero, and naught doth he crave but strife;In the camp of thy hired soldiers is many a rumour rife,They say from the good Round Table cometh Ither of CumberlandTo the help of the queen, and knightly and valiant methinks his hand!'Twas his arms that rode forth for jousting, and no man his deeds shall blame,In such wise hath he borne his armour as winneth him meed of fame.'

Quoth the king to the squire, 'My lady, the queen, she desireth me,And she and her land so goodly I trow shall my portion be.And Kingron the seneschal told me, and surely the truth he spake,That famine doth plague the city, and peace they ere long must make,And the queen she her love shall proffer'--His wrath must the squire abide.Then the king and his host passed onward, and a knight did toward them ride,And he spared not his horse but spurred it, and told them the self-same tale,And the king deemed the loss o'er-heavy, and courage and joy must fail.

Then a prince spake from out the army, 'Tho' Kingron hath valour shown,Yet never he fought for our manhood, he fought for himself alone.Now let him to death be stricken--Why then should they be cast down,Two hosts, this one, and the army that lieth before the town?'Then he bade his lord take courage, 'Once more will we try our fate,Let them look to their arms, the conflict shall be for their strength too great,We will make an end of their gladness! Bid thy vassals and kinsmen hear,With banners twain before them to the town shall they draw anear;Down the hill will we ride upon them, but afoot must we storm the gate,For so shall we work them evil, and victory shall on us wait.'Galogandres, the Duke of Gippones, it was who this counsel gave,And sorrow he brought on the Burgers--but slain was this hero brave,And slain, too, the brave Count Narant, a prince from Uckerland's shore,And many another hero whom dead from the field they bore.

Now hear ye another story, how the Burgers would guard their wall.Strong stakes of wood sharp-pointed they made fast in tree-trunks tall;(Sore pain thus was wrought the besiegers) and the trunks were made fast that dayTo a rope that by wheel was guided, so they guarded their walls alway.And all this had they done and tested ere Klamidé would storm the gateTo avenge the fall of Kingron--There had come to their land of lateGreek fire, for the ships had brought it that of food brought a goodly store,And it burnt of the foe the weapons, and the engines of deadly war;And battering-ram or tortoise in vain 'gainst the walls were wheeled,No weapon had they for onslaught but was forced to the flame to yield!

Now Kingron the seneschal journeyed till he came on to Breton ground,In his hunting-house in Briziljan King Arthur at last he found,And Karminöl did they call it--As 'fore Pelrapär he fought,So at Parzival's word his surety to the maid of Lalande he brought,And glad was fair Kunnewaaré that, faithful, he mourned her shameWhom men there knew as the Red Knight, and this knight at his bidding came.

And soon were the wondrous tidings amid the courtiers spread,And he stood there before King Arthur, a gallant knight ill-sped.Then he spake unto him and his vassals in such wise as he needs must speak,And Kay was with terror smitten, and crimson it grew, his cheek,And he spake, 'Is it thou, O Kingron? Ah! many a Breton knight,Thou seneschal of Klamidé, thy hand hath o'erthrown in fight!If thy captor ne'er look upon me with favour, thine office highShall turn to thy good; we are rulers of the caldron, both thou and I,Of thy wisdom and skill do thou aid me, to win me the favour fairOf this maiden Kunnewaaré, and sweet cates for her board prepare!'

Nor they asked from him other ransom--Now leave we that tale and hearWhat had passed since we left the story--So the host to the town drew near,To Pelrapär came the King Klamidé, and a bitter strife arose.The inner host strove with the outer, and in sooth were they gallant foes,Fresh strength had they won and courage, and bravely they held the field;And Parzival, lord of the country, in the vanguard he bare his shield.And he swung aloft his weapon, thro' the helm clave the blade so keen,And the knights he o'erthrew before him found a bitter death I ween,For there, where the corslet opened, the Burgers they pierced them thro',In such wise would they take their vengeance--this wrought grief to the hero true,And Parzival, he forbade them, and they ceased at their lord's command,But of living knights full twenty were captive unto their hand.

Yet Parzival well had marked it how the king and his bravest knightsSought not fame before the portals, but far out in the plain would fight;Then forth by a path untrodden the hero a circuit made,And swiftly he charged where the monarch his banner aloft displayed.And, see! there a mighty slaughter the guard of the king befell,And the shields they were hewn in pieces, the Burgers they fought so well.And Parzival's shield had vanished 'fore the blows and the sword-blades keen;And tho' little his skill rejoiced them, yet all who the strife had seen,They spoke but to praise his valour--Galogandres the standard bare,(Well he knew how to wake their courage!) but dead lay the hero there.And Klamidé himself stood in peril, and great stress on his army lay;Then he bade them withdraw, for the valour of the Burgers had won the day.

But Parzival, gallant hero, bade them treat their captives wellTill the dawn of the third day's morning, and fear on his foemen fell.Then the young host, proud and joyful, bade the knights on their oath go free--'Good friends, when the word I send ye, then wend your way back to me!'Their swords and their goodly harness as prisoners they needs must yield;Unarmed did they fare from the city to the host on the outer field.

'For sooth,' spake their comrades mocking, 'from wine must ye needs be red,Poor souls, since within the city ye have hungered for lack of bread!''Nay! nay! ye may spare your pity,' so spake they, the heroes good,'If ye lie here a whole year longer, within is such store of food,That by them might ye well be nourished! And the queen hath the fairest knightFor her husband, that e'er won knighthood, or carried a shield in fight,He may well be of lofty lineage, for he lacketh no knightly skill!'And the king needs must hear the tidings, and in sooth did they please him ill,And heralds he sent to the city, and he bade them this challenge bearTo him whom the queen had wedded, 'If this knight the strife shall dare,And the queen doth hold him worthy herself, and her lands so wide,To defend in single combat, then in peace may our hosts abide!'

And Parzival he was joyful at the message the heralds bare,And his heart was fain for the combat; and out spake the hero fair,'Now I pledge me upon mine honour that no man within this wallShall lift his hand for my peril, alone will I stand or fall!'So betwixt the moat and the meadow a truce did they swear that day,And those smiths of battle armed them as meet for the coming fray.

On a gallant war-horse armèd sat the King of Brandigan,'Twas hight Guverjorz--This charger with many a gallant man,And many a goodly present, from Gringorz his nephew, kingOf Ipotente did Count Narant from the north o'er the deep seas bring.And therewith were a thousand footmen, well armed save no shield had they;(If the tale speaketh true to the third year the king had made good their pay.)And Gringorz sent him knights five hundred, each one with his helm on head,And skilled were they all in battle; with Klamidé they hither sped.And thus had the mighty army, alike both by sea and land,Encircled the town of Pelrapär, and great need must its folk withstand!

Forth rode Parzival from the city to the field that should aye declareIf 'twas God's will his wife to leave him, the child of King Tampentäre.Proudly he rode, yet he spurred not his steed to its swiftest flight,And 'twas armed for need, and its covering was a samite of red so bright,And the iron lay beneath it--And the hero himself shone fairIn his harness red, red his corslet, and the shield that he proudly bare.And Klamidé began the conflict--A short spear of wood unwrought,With that would he fell his foeman, and the joust from afar he sought;And Guverjorz sprang forth swiftly, and the joust it was ridden wellBy those heroes young and beardless, nor one from his saddle fell,And never a horse or a rider had foughten a better fight;And the steam rose in clouds from the chargers on which sat each gallant knight,

And so fierce was the fight that the horses, out-wearied with conflict sore,Stumbled and fell together, in sooth could they do no more.And joyful they smote, the heroes, till fire from the helm must spring,Small time had they there for leisure, but zeal to their task must bring;And the shields were hewn in pieces, and the splinters were tossed on high,As shuttlecocks gaily smitten to the winds of heaven fly.Yet Gamuret's son was unwearied, and never a limb did ache,Tho' Klamidé deemed that the foemen from the city the truce would break.Then he bade his fellow-foeman to look to his honour well,And stay the hand of the slingers, for the blows heavy on him fellAs of stones shot forth from an engine--But Parzival made reply,'Nay, safe art thou from the slingers, my word is thy surety,Thou hast peace from mine hand, and I swear thee that never a sling shall breakHead, or breast, or thigh, thou art safe here, were it but for mine honour's sake!'

All too soon was Klamidé wearied and spent with the deadly fight,Who was victor, and who was vanquished, ere long might be seen aright,And they looked on the King Klamidé, on the grass was he laid alow,And Parzival's right hand gripped him till forth streamed the crimson flowOf blood from the ears and nostrils, and the green turf was dyed with red;And his foeman unbound the helmet and visor, and bared his head,The vanquished would face the death-blow, and the victor spake, 'Here I freeMy wife for aye from thy wooing! Learn thou what Death may be!'

'Nay! nay! thou gallant hero, thirty-fold doth thy glory growThro' the valour thine hand hath shown here, since in strife thou hast laid me low.What higher fame dost thou look for? Kondwiramur sure shall sayThat Good Fortune hath smiled upon thee, whilst I am Misfortune's prey;Thy land hast thou now delivered--As when one a leaking boatDoth free from the load of water, that it light o'er the waves may float,So lightened am I of honour! Manly honour and joy I trowAre waxen thin and faded, what profit to slay me now?From children and children's children mine heritage shall be shame,To do more here methinks were needless--For joy thou hast won and fame,And a living death is my portion, since for ever from her I part,Who fast in love's magic fetters hath held me both mind and heart,Little good it forsooth hath brought me, ah! most wretched henceforth am I,And this land and its lovely lady for aye in thy power shall lie!'

Now he who was here the victor on Gurnemanz' counsel thought,How mercy should well beseem him who with manhood had valiant fought,And he thought him the rede to follow; and thus to the king he spake,'I free thee not, to the father of Liassé submission make!''Nay, Sir Knight, I have wrought him evil, 'twas thro' me that his son was slain,An ill-fate wouldst thou bring upon me! The hand of thy queen to gain,With Schenteflur I battled, and in sooth had I died that day,Save that Kingron came to my succour, and his hand did the hero slay.For Gurnemanz of Graharz had sent him to Brobarz' landAt the head of a gallant army; 'twas a fair and knightly band,Nine hundred knights who fought well, and rode upon mail-clad steeds,And fifteen hundred footmen all armed for valiant deeds,For naught but shields should fail them--Too great their might I thought,But the seed of such goodly harvest once more their country sought.Yet now hath my loss been greater! Of my heroes but few are left,What more would thine hand take from me, who of gladness am now bereft?'

'An easier way I'll show thee, to Brittany shalt thou ride,Kingron has gone before thee, there King Arthur he doth abide,To him shalt thou bear my greeting, and bid him to mourn alwayThe shame I bare as my portion when I rode from his court away.A maiden who smiled upon me for my sake was smitten sore--Of all that in life e'er grieved me naught ever hath grieved me more!And that maid shalt thou tell of my sorrow; and thy pledge to her hand shalt yield,And do even as she shall bid thee--Or die here on this foughten field!'

'So, if here I must choose betwixt them, not long shall my choice delay,'Spake the King of Brandigan swiftly, 'From hence will I ride straightway!'But his oath did he swear ere he parted whom pride had in peril brought.Then Parzival, the hero, for his wearied charger sought,And his foot touched nor horse nor stirrup as he light to the saddle sprung,And his steed the hewn shields' splinters around him in circles flung.

And the Burgers I ween were joyful--but their foemen were sad and sore,For flesh and bone were wearied, and sorrow of heart they bore.And they brought King Klamidé wounded to those who might give him aid,And the dead on the bier they bare them, and to rest in the grave they laid.From many a guest unwelcome the land at last was freed,And the gallant King Klamidé to Löver he rode with speed.

Now it fell at this time King Arthur and the knights of the Table Round,And many another hero, at Dianasdron were found.And in sooth no lie I tell ye when I say that this plain so goodBare of tent-poles a greater number than the trees in Spessart's wood.For 'twas ever the wont of King Arthur the high feast of PentecostTo keep with his knights and vassals, and of maidens a goodly host.There were many a noble banner, and many a warlike shieldWith coat of arms emblazoned, and fair tents stood adown the field;'Twould be thought of the world a marvel, who should make all the travelling gearFor such wondrous host of ladies as those that were gathered here!And I think me that never a maiden but had counted it to her shameIf no knight mid the knights around her she might as her lover claim!Came I myself to such gathering, an such youthful knights were there,I were loth if my wife beside me thro' such tumult were fain to fare--(Nay, when folk thus come together far liefer were I away)May be one might speak unto her, and some such words would say--'With love of her was he smitten, and ne'er might he healing knowSave that she herself should heal him. Yea, an but her will were so,Her knight would he be for ever, to serve her his whole life long'I were swift, with my wife beside me, to flee from such foolish throng!

Yet enough of myself have I spoken--Now hear how King Arthur's tentMight be known apart from the others; before it on gladness bentHe feasted, the king, with his vassals whose hearts never falsehood knew,And with many a stately maiden, whose thoughts aye to jousting flew,As if with darts they sported, and their friend 'gainst the foe would aim,And if ill befell their hero with sweet words to his aid they came.

Then the youthful King Klamidé in the ring would he bridle draw;His steel-clad limbs and charger the wife of King Arthur saw,His helmet and good shield cloven her maidens they saw right well--So he came to the court, (who had sent him small need have I here to tell.)So sprang he adown from his charger, and they thronged him on either handEre he came where she sat whom he sought for, Kunnewaaré of fair Lalande.

And he spake, 'Art thou she, O Lady, to whom I owe service fair?(Yet need doth in part constrain me) from the Red Knight I greeting bear,He willeth to take upon him the shame that thy lot hath been;He prays that King Arthur mourn it--Thou wast smitten for him I ween,Here, Lady, my pledge I bring thee, so my victor hath bidden me,Else my body to death were forfeit--I will do here as pleaseth thee!'

Then the maiden Kunnewaaré by his hand led the gallant knightWhere Queen Guinevere was seated, she ate with her maidens bright;And Kay uprose from the table as the tidings he needs must hear,They brought gladness to Kunnewaaré, but to Kay had they wrought but fear.

And he quoth, 'What he speaketh, Lady, who thus unto thee hath spedHe speaketh perforce, yet I think me he greatly hath been misled!I thought but to teach thee better, yet for this cause thou hatest me!Now bid thou this knight disarm him, for his standing o'er-long shall be.'

Then she bade him put off his helmet and visor, the maiden true,And e'en as the bands were loosened Klamidé the king they knew,And Kingron he looked upon him, and he saw his lord again,And he wrung his hands in his anguish till as dry twigs they cracked amain.

Then the seneschal of Klamidé, from the table he sprung straightway,And he asked of his lord the tidings; and joyless was he that day,For he spake, 'I am born to sorrow; I have lost such a gallant host,No man that was born of woman, I think me shall more have lost.And the load of such bitter sorrow lieth heavy upon my breast,And joy is to me a stranger, and gladness a fleeting guest!And grey am I grown for the anguish she hath wrought me, Kondwiramur,--Yea, the sorrow of Pontius Pilate, and false Judas who evermoreMust grieve for his faithless dealings, who did Christ unto death betray,What of punishment God layeth on them that woe would I bear alway--If so be that the Lady of Brobarz were my wife of goodwill and free,And mine arms held her fast, I had recked not what hereafter should chance to me.But, alas! for her love is withholden from the ruler of Iserterre,And my land and my folk henceforward for her sake shall sorrow bear.Mine uncle's son, Mabonagrein, for her love long hath suffered pain;And by knightly hand constrainèd in thy court I, O king, draw rein!And well dost thou know in my kingdom much harm have I done to thee,Forget that, true knight and faithful, from thy hate do thou set me freeSince here I abide, a captive--And this maiden my life shall shield,Since I stand in her sight, her servant, and my pledge to her hand would yield!'Then of knightly heart King Arthur forgave him as he would pray,And with faithful words, and kindly, showed favour to him that day.

Far and wide did they tell the tidings how the King of BrandiganRode hither, and man and maiden in thronging crowds they ran.Then the king he would crave a comrade, and he spake out with joyless mien,'Commend me unto Sir Gawain, if thou deemest me worth, O Queen!Well I know that he would desire it, and if he thy word obey,Then he honoureth thee, and the Red Knight shall win praise at his hand to-day.'Then King Arthur he bade his nephew deal well with the captive king,(Tho' I wot well, without his bidding, Sir Gawain had done this thing.)And the conquered knight, in whose dealings no falsehood had part or share,From the vassals and gallant heroes won a welcome both fit and fair.

Then Kingron he spake in sorrow, 'Alas! that I needs must seeThe day when in Breton dwellings my king shall a captive be!For richer wert thou than Arthur, and of vassals a greater hostHath served thee, nor strength was lacking, and of youth canst thou make thy boast.Shall men count it to Arthur's honour that Kay in his wrath did smiteA princess whose heart hath shown her the wisdom to choose aright,And smile upon one whom henceforward all men may with truth proclaimElect to the highest honour and crown of true knightly fame?The tree of their fame these Bretons may deem to have waxen high;Dead lay Cumberland's king, but I wot well be by no deed of theirs must die!Nor the fame shall be theirs that, my master, thou didst yield to that self-same knight,Or that I myself have been vanquished in fair and open fight;And the sparks sprang bright from our helmets, and our swords clave the whistling airAs for life and death we battled, and men looked on our combat fair.'

Then all at the good Round Table, both rich and poor alike,With one voice spake that Kay did evil when a maiden he thought to strike.But now will we leave their story, and fare back unto PelrapärWhere Parzival reigned as monarch; the waste lands were builded fair,And joy was their lot and singing, (and red gold and jewels brightKing Tampentäre left in the city where awhile he had reigned in might)Then rich gifts he gave till men loved him for his knightly hand and free;New shields and costly banners the pride of his land should be,And many a joust and Tourney did he and his heroes ride.And e'en on the distant borders in gallant deeds he vied,That hero young and dauntless, and no foeman might e'er denyThat on battle-field or in Tourney his hand won the victory.

And now of the queen would I tell ye--What lot might ye hold so fairAs hers, that gentle lady? In earth's joys had she fullest share.Her love it might bud and blossom, nor weakness nor wavering show,For the worth of her lord and husband her heart scarce might fail to know.And each found their life in the other, and each was the other's love.If, as saith the tale, they were parted, what grief must each true heart move!And I mourn for that gentle lady, her body, her folk, her land,(So he won of her love the guerdon) had he freed with his strong right hand.

Thus courteous he spake one morning (and the knights stood their lord beside),'Lady, an it so please thee, give me leave that I hence may rideAnd see how my mother fareth, if weal be her lot, or woe,For naught of all that befalls her methinks I for long may know.For a short space would I go thither; and if ventures my skill approveTherewith would I do thee service, and be worthy my lady's love.'Thus he spake, and the story telleth she thought not to say him 'Nay,'For she deemed it well; from his vassals all lonely he took his way.